


one am is a perfect time as any

by genes1s



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genes1s/pseuds/genes1s
Summary: Lance challenges Keith to a dance battle.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	one am is a perfect time as any

**Author's Note:**

> the song in this fic is Space Song by Beach House, feel free to listen along

Keith is resting against the viewing window. His head is leaning back on the glass. His eyes are closed.

Lance could turn around and leave, but he can’t just let Keith relax. He’s got that short jacket on as usual, and those black gloves - the ones with the fingers missing. It’s like he just walked out of a nineties fashion show.

He can’t help but stare for a while. Keith without a scowl on his face is like spotting an endangered animal. One of his legs is pulled up and he’s got his arm draped over it ; he really does look peaceful. Behind Keith the stars fly by. Or perhaps they don’t. To Lance, the white flecks appear stationary amongst the indigo and black, though he knows for sure the ship is moving. This window’s image is a lie.

As he walks closer, Keith’s eyes flutter open. Then they narrow immediately. He clutches something in his leather palm, so Lance stops a meter away and peaks down to look at his lap. It’s a little red mp3. Lance follows the wires up to the buds in Keith’s ears.

Cosplaying the 2000s, then.

Lance grins and spins on his feet to lean against the glass. He draws his own foot up, mimicking Keith but taller. The smirk doesn’t drop as he cranes his head to look down at the black mop. 

Keith looks up at Lance through messy bangs. Sighs too - real dramatic - full shoulder shrug and all. Lance knows Keith is trying to convey ‘fuck off’ with each and every muscle. Nevertheless, it’s always entertaining when he puts an effort in.

“Hey mullet. What you listenin’ to?”

“Music.”

“Guessing game huh?” Lance eyes the fingerless gloves. “My Chemical Romance?”

Silence.

“Panic At The Disco?”

Silence.

“Fall out boy? Come _onnn_ , Keith. That’s so five years ago.”

“I’m not listening to Fall Out Boy godammit.” He hits a button on the player. And he tugs the buds out, both of them. Super angry.

“Well that’s my three lives gone. I’ll get ya next time.”

“Can I not get five minutes alone? For fuck’s sake Lance, it’s one am.”

“Huh? How’d you know Earth time?”

Keith turns away quickly as if he’s let something slip. He presses the mp3 a little closer to his chest.

“That thing still keeps the time?”

“S’pose. Could be completely out though. Guess it doesn’t matter. It’s dark all the time here.”

Lance pushes off the glass and turns to look outside, pressing his hands to the window. He did this at least twenty times when they first arrived. He did this when he went to aquariums as a kid.

“Dark, huh? I don’t think so. Only you’d ignore all the stars, Mr. Glass Half Empty.”

Keith rolls his eyes. If Lance were concerned for him, he’d worn Keith that his head might roll off some day. He wonders if a detached Keith-head could still scowl.

“Was there any reason that you’re disturbing me?” Keith draws both knees to his chest then, and let’s his head drop back against the glass. Lance could swear he hears the impact. “Never mind, forget I asked. Lance McLain doesn’t need a reason to annoy people.”

“Too right buddy.” Wrong actually. Lance couldn’t sleep and happening upon Keith was actually kinda lucky. He could count on him for conversation - all he had to do was rile him up. “Y’know, I’m sorta jealous of your ancient music player. Did you dig that up in the desert?”

“Shut up.”

“Nah, for real. I’m starting to miss music from Earth. You’re lucky you’ve got it with you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve only got a few same songs on here. I try not to play them too often. Don’t wanna get bored.”

Lance thinks his lips tug down a bit further. Hard to tell though, since Keith’s resting face is a frown.

“Better than nothing though, huh? I’d kill to have some of my own music to dance to.”

Keith’s eyes shoot up to look at Lance. His mouth might’ve just turned up a little.

“Dance? Just when I thought you couldn’t look any more stupid. Maybe I’d let you listen to my music just so I can laugh at you.”

“It wouldn’t matter. I don’t dance alone.” Lance tries to make his voice sound wistful. It works, apparently. Keith seems to be cringing.

“Who would dance with you? I bet you’re shit. The only coordination you have is when piloting, and even that’s debatable.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know there are loads of girls who want to dance with me. Wanted to. Back on Earth. Girls had to wait their turn for me at prom. And I’ll have you know I’m pretty darn good.”

A lie. Lance has only ever danced with his mother. He remembers the way she spun him round the kitchen.

Keith scoffs and rolls his eyes again. Lance can almost see his head detaching at the neck. “I send my condolences to the girls. I think anyone could dance better than you.”

“Anyone, really? Even you? I didn’t know emos liked to dance. Isn’t that too jolly for your kind?”

Keith scrunches his nose up. Hunk would call that cute.

“ _Ha ha_. I can fight, though. My footwork would probably make me better at dancing than you, at least”

Lance sighs. Of course, everything’s fighting with Keith. Violence and battle. Knives and guns.

“And what’re you gonna do to your dance partner? Stab them? You clearly lack the _elegance._ ”

“Elegance my ass. You are the perfect demonstration of bull in a china shop.”

“All talk today, aren’t you Keith? You know if you want to convince me you’re gonna have to prove it.”

“No thanks. I don’t wanna sink to your level of idiot.”

“Hmm, guess that settles it then. I’m obviously the better dancer.”

“Go away. Baiting me isn’t going to work.”

“Come onnn, you won’t be the only one dancing. It takes two to dance battle.”

“You mean tango. It takes two to tango.”

“Nah, tango’s not my style. Waltz - now that’s what made the ladies swoon.”

Keith puts both his earbuds back in his ears. Lance pouts. He was just starting to have fun with the teasing.

“Typical Keith. Clearly too aggressive to attempt dance. Lacks the skill of timing, agility, having fun -“

“Fine, shut up. I’ll do your shitty dance battle. I’ll beat you, I mean.”

Keith pockets his mp3 and gets up. Lance grins, spinning off the wall a few metres opposite Keith. He’s gotten his way, but what’s he meant to do now? Keith is crossing his arms and his eyes keep flicking from Lance to other random spots around the room.

Maybe he should have left it. This doesn’t feel like winning. Why does he always get himself in awkward situations.

“So ... now we dance?”

“You’re the one who dragged me into this.” Lance supposes this is all worth it, just to see how uncomfortable Keith is. He laughs as Keith’s scowl somehow intensifies.

“Yeah I did. And I’ll win.”

“You fucking wish.” But Keith’s eyes are still dancing around the room.

Lance walks closer. Keith steps back.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“You know what ballroom dancing is, right Keith? We have to dance together.”

Is Lance seeing this right? Keith almost looks frightened. He’s tempted to turn around and check behind his back. Has Zarkon respawned behind him?

“Umm ...” Classic Keith. Eloquent as ever.

Lance realises that frightened Keith is kind of hilarious. Damn, he should’ve asked Keith to dance months ago. If only he had a camera.

He continues forward. Keith squares his feet and shoulders. He’s still slim, though. And shorter than Lance, by at least two inches.

“You’re shorter than me. By at least two inches.”

Keith steps forward and squints. He has to tilt his head up to glare Lance in the eyes, and he can see the exact moment Keith realises that this means he is shorter.

“Whatever. It probably means I’ll be better at dancing.”

“And how’d you figure that one out?”

“Lower centre of gravity.”

“Please, leave the science talk to Pidge.”

“You really are an idiot. Sucks to be you, even I know you need a brain to dance.”

“I guess we’ll have to find out then, won’t we?”

Lance makes a grab for Keith’s waist. Keith’s eyes grow into saucers. There’s a war of fight or flight flashing behind them. Fight seems to win. Keith doesn’t move.

Of course it does. This is _Keith._

“M’Lady, will you take my hand?” Keith’s paper-white fingers grudgingly wrap around the offered hand. He definitely uses more force than necessary.

He isn’t glaring into Lance’s eyes anymore. Instead, he’s staring at something on the floor with intent.  
It’s odd, his cheeks look almost as ruby as his jacket. Lance tries to dip his head to look at Keith’s face, but he just twists it further away. He retreats, not wanting Keith’s neck to snap just yet.

They don’t move, not really. Both of them just kinda stand there, awkwardly touching. Keith’s hand looks really out of place hanging down between them, so Lance lifts the hand from his waist and moves Keith’s small hand to his shoulder, before replacing his own.

And then he starts to move. Keith is clearly squeezing his eyes tight and it’s weird, he’s letting Lance take control. He slowly tilts them left and right. One foot foward, one foot back. Keith’s body jumps at every movement likes he’s getting an electric shock. Lance feels it through his wrists.

Its hard, in the compete silence. Keith’s breaths are short but quiet. The room is dim too, the only light coming from the stars outside. The view is the backdrop to their scene. They could be performing for those stars. Perhaps they are. There’s noone else in the room.

Lance decides to move them further around. He’s got to prove he has experience, after all. He tries to imagine that Keith is one of the girls he used to watch at the school dance, too afraid to talk to them. But Keith smells of man. His body isn’t soft, either. He’s got sharp edges, and Lance’s hands fit well. They don’t slide right off.

A boot scuffs and Keith trips. His foot lands on Lance’s toe.

“Ow.” It didn’t hurt.

“Sor- no, that was your fault. Is this meant to be fun? Lance, I think Satan invented dancing.”

“Don’t think so. This isn’t hell. Can’t be, cause I’m here.”

Pain bursts through his leg as Keith’s foot connects with his shin. “Hey!”

But his retort sorta dies on his tongue when he sees Keith’s face. He’s smiling, and there’s definitely teeth peeking through those lips. Lance smiles back. He can’t help it, really.

Keith’s eyelids flutter shut again. A hint of a smile still tugs up his mouth, and his fingers relax on Lance’s shoulder. He can feel the warmth from Keith’s thumb where it brushes his bare neck. Vampire theory out, then.

Lance closes his eyes too. He imagines his favourite songs playing, from the radio in the kitchen like they did back home. He hears guitars and castanets.

His hand raises their linked palms for a spin. Keith was right, though Lance hates to admit it. His footwork is pretty darn good. Keith spins without his face meeting the ground. Lance watches his body, pictures the knife in his hand as he turns in battle. 

Their dance is slow, but Lance doesn’t mind. They could have been dancing for seconds. It could’ve been hours. He forgets, but it’s nice not to count the time.

It’s nice to feel timeless.

He doesn’t stop as he reaches down to take a bud out of Keith’s ear, but he knows he’s being watched intently as he places the bud in his own. Keith purses his lips together. Music fills Lance’s ear.

It’s like being transported into another moment in time. The room drops away. He only watches Keith. He only listens.

The music is soft. Synthetic. The kind of song he’d hear and think _space. Galaxies._ Maybe Hunk, Pidge and he would’ve listened to it back on Earth as they gazed at the stars.

He likes it. He really does. And he can’t help but squeeze Keith’s hand. He wants Keith to know.

Tingles creep beneath his skin - all the way down his neck, all the way to his stomach - when a warm thumb brushes against Lance’s collarbone. And then it brushes again. Keith was watching him as he did it, Lance knows he was, but he couldn’t help from staring at Keith in surprise, and now Keith isn’t looking at him anymore.

His fingers are still against Lance’s shoulder. And he’s looking away again, eyes suddenly interested in their boots. Their boots that are touching. Pink crawls down Keith’s neck.

Lance takes his hand from his waist. He slowly moves it upwards, but it’s shaking, and it feels like lead. It’s sort of agonising, watching it hover uselessly between them.

He forces it to Keith’s shoulder. Everything’s moving in slow motion. It rests there as Lance’s fingers inch towards their destination. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself intent on returning the touch.

His fingers meet the pale skin of Keith’s cheek. It’s soft. It really is. He didn’t expect any part of Keith to be soft, not his words, or his actions, or his skin.

But it’s delicate. It really is.

Those girls he used to stare at. Would their skin feel this soft?

He can’t help but touch it again. And once more. Keeps touching it, because he doesn’t know how long he’ll get the chance. Keith could cross his arms at any moment. Could cross his arms and walk away.

Maybe Lance didn’t know what he wanted until he was holding it. Maybe. But what he knows for sure if that he doesn’t want to let go, not just yet.

Lance doesn’t want to stop dancing. At least not just yet. 

He finally looks away from his fingers. Away from his fingers, which are touching Keith’s skin. When he flicks to Keith’s eyes, Lance can’t stop the warmth than flushes his whole face.

Keith’s staring at him. Proper staring. The way Lance used to stare at the girls across the hall. But he’s not across the hall, he’s right next to Keith. And he _had_ asked Keith to dance.

He can’t help it when he leans down. He really can’t. Lance doesn’t know how to a kiss a boy, but if Keith’s lips are as soft as his skin, he doesn’t really care.

Their lips meet and Keith is so _warm._ Lance feels thin fingers card through his hair. They grip and tug and pull, so that Keith has control. Of course he does. Even this is a competition.

Lance can’t stop himself from smiling. He wraps an arm around Keith’s waist whilst the other cups the back of his neck, and he can’t stop himself. He dips Keith so that his dark hair nearly brushes the floor. It shines in the reflection of faraway stars. Keith is forced to wrap a leg around Lance’s back so that he doesn’t fall, and he makes sure to risk his grip by flicking Lance painfully across the nose.

“Idiot.”

“Looks like I won though, yeah?”

Their song ends, and the next one plays.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think the rest of the voltron crew just walked past the door and were like owO


End file.
